


Say My Name

by Ael_tRlailiiu



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, nothing but good things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-26
Updated: 2016-07-26
Packaged: 2018-07-26 21:24:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7590964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ael_tRlailiiu/pseuds/Ael_tRlailiiu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Odds of our babies getting more than five minutes of downtime between S5 and S6? Zero. But my self-assigned job in this fandom is writing them some of that downtime, because I enjoy the thought of them relaxed and happy and making each other feel good. </p>
<p>Emma and Killian visit the Jolly Roger to pack up his stuff and catch up on some of the sex they’ve missed out on lately. Contains my standard 60/40 combination of smut and fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Say My Name

They hadn’t planned on coming down to the docks today. A quiet morning in town seemed too much to hope for after the previous day -- week -- month? -- but there had been no sign of Hyde or his “friends”. 

“We can handle things for a few hours,” her mother said. “You two haven’t had any chance at all to settle in since… since we got back.” She cast a glance at David. “Remember when we moved in together?”

“How could I forget? Nothing like going from camp life with nothing more to worry about than my sword and a horse to having an entire castle to furnish overnight.” 

A familiar gleam appeared in Snow White’s eyes at this, but she gave her daughter a decisive nod. “Go on. We’ll call if we need anything.” 

Emma opened her mouth to argue, considered the speech that would surely follow about carping the diem, or at least the moment, said, “Okay,” and grabbed Killian’s hand. “We’ll do that. See you guys for dinner.” 

They had been on board the  _ Jolly Roger _ for a half hour before the lightbulb went on for her and Emma said, “You’ve never done this before.” 

“What?” Killian looked up from the tiny desk. His hand settled to rest atop the papers he had been leafing through. 

“This.” Emma gestured at the cabin’s crisp white and gold walls, then at the stack of boxes on the table. She had obtained them by the time-honored method of taking whatever Storybrooke Liquors didn’t want. “Moving.” 

“Only other people’s possessions, as a rule.” 

“Cute.” She leaned back against the table, bracing herself against the ship’s slight motion. “We can leave it, if you want. There’s not that much in here really.” She tried to sound casual, to disguise how much she wanted this.  _ Not really the roommate type, _ she had called herself, and now she craved this intermingling more than she had ever imagined. 

“There’s a few things that can stay. Most of it, I would just as soon move.” Killian gave her a reassuring smile and addressed his task more briskly. With his jacket off and his sleeves rolled up against the day’s unseasonal warmth, Emma found herself distracted from packing books. She liked his leather jacket. She liked looking at him without it even better, at the lines of his body rendered fine and sharp by the tailored shirt. 

“You didn’t bring any of it when you traded the ship.” She redirected her gaze and pulled a few more volumes from the shelf. They were supposed to be working, making the house into  _ their _ house in a different way than they had the previous night, a trail of clothes scattered behind them the whole way up the stairs. 

“You may recall, I had an errand of some urgency to attend. I threw a few things in my satchel and went about it.” He glanced at her with a trace of a smile. “There’s something to be said for leisure.” He finished with the desk and turned his attention to the shelves above the safe. 

Emma smiled, too. “That was quite the day.” He knew she was watching him, she decided. There was no call for him to stretch like that otherwise, not just to take down a lamp and a basket of oddments. She sealed up the box and wrinkled her nose at the smell of the packing tape, started to fill another one and stopped. “You know, they’re not expecting us back until dinner.”

“True.” He glanced around the cabin, then at her. “This won’t take that long, by any means.” 

“So, we have some time.” She kept her gaze steady on him and saw his eyebrow twitch. “And this whole ship to ourselves.” 

He did know what he was doing, judging from the flicker of mischief in his expression. “Would you like to take her out? It’s a fine day.”

“Maybe later. Actually,” she added, “make that definitely later. I think I’m done with wasting chances.” The previous night had been a desperate collision at speed, pure needy affirmation that she was alive, he was alive, without room for any words beyond each other’s names. 

He didn’t say anything smug, just closed the distance in one deliberate step, eyes still locked on hers. Two seconds was more than enough for her anticipation to build before he kissed her. That little noise of his went straight to her limbic system, already on high alert. Emma swayed back against the table, which was too low for her purposes, then leaned hard into the kiss. 

She set her hands on his hips, pivoted, and stepped backward. Killian lifted her the few inches onto the bunk. He ran his fingers into her hair. Emma closed her eyes to concentrate on that, and on the slide of his tongue against her lips, the pressure and the promise there. She cupped one hand behind his neck and used her other to tug him closer as she wrapped her leg around him.

“You’re smiling,” he said against her mouth.

“I love you.” Loved how the words tasted a little different every time, loved the answering brightness in his eyes. Loved knowing that he wanted her, wanted her pleasure just as she wanted his--no treasures to be stored on a pedestal here. She circled his tongue with her own and nudged her hips against his. 

This love wasn’t like suddenly seeing color for the first time, or hearing music, or anything like that. More a depth gradually perceived, discovery of layers beyond those she had always known. There was that familiar layer of need, of plain desire that had been there forever, but so much else besides -- trust, laughter, all of the hurts and the healing of the past two years, all the choices they had made going to just this moment. She ran her palms up his arms, guided his hand to her side and under her shirt. “Less talking, more undressing.” 

“I am an excellent multi-tasker, you know. See?” He proved it by unfastening her bra while he spoke.

“Where did you even--never mind.” Emma went to work on his vest. “Fine. More undressing, at least.” The daylight streaming through the stern windows over them both roused a shyness that surprised her. This wasn’t the rush of the previous night; she lingered over every button. His insistence on kissing her the whole time slowed them down further -- her cheek, her neck, shoulders once he’d gotten her sweater off, returning again and again to her mouth, a bit more insistent on every visit, leaving both of them breathless and finally unclothed. 

The bunk was the perfect height. Emma breathed out a long, satisfied sigh at having him inside her again. For a few moments they barely moved. 

“Good?” he managed. 

“Very good. You?” She sought his mouth again and drew her hands down his back. Every time so far had been different, and she wanted very much to continue the catalog of variations--how different his eyes looked in sunlight and shade, the shift of his muscles under her fingers, the shaky rhythm of his breath coming under control. “Not so much to say now?”

“Here you are making a liar of me. You are beyond exquisite, and I fear that’s the only word I’ve got right now.” 

“Let’s see if I can find another one.” The narrow bunk limited their options. She shifted backwards. “Lie down,” and he did so, with that curious glint in his eye. “I wanted to do this last night, but I think we both passed out.” She stroked him for a moment, then settled herself next to him where she could apply her mouth. He shifted over a few inches to give her more room. Emma licked all around him, teasing, before she settled to a proper exploration. She played her nails lightly across his chest while she worked her tongue around his glans, scratched through his hair and tweaked his nipples and felt him grow harder in response. 

“I hope turnabout’s fair play.” He pressed a kiss against her outer thigh, then encouraged her to move astride him. 

“More than fair.” Emma held her breath, tense with anticipation, and flicked her tongue here and there teasingly.

“Relax, love.” He peppered her with more kisses and stroked the crease of her thigh, working his way slowly toward her center. 

“Easy for you to say.” She took him deep in her mouth to hear his breath catch. He took revenge with a lingering swipe of his tongue, and from there it was a contest she was happy to lose. Emma finally gave up her efforts to tease him and clenched her hands into the mattress, head back and panting. Her climax hit quick and sharp, and left her wanting more. She shifted farther down the bed, still on her knees and glanced at him over her shoulder. She could appreciate afterward the easy way he read her needs, moving into position behind her to pick up the same rhythm with barely a missed beat, cock driving hard into her, his hand holding her hip steady. 

“Emma…..”

“Oh my god don’t stop,” was all she could say. Her first orgasm had barely faded when the second one started. For a moment everything was in sync, his thrusts and the pulse of pleasure building within her, peaking higher this time. She muffled her cries against the mattress, pressing back against him. He sped up, then slowed again, breathing hard, a last few strokes drawing a moan from deep within her.

As soon as he stopped moving, Emma collapsed. Killian collapsed on top of her, his breath warm and fast on the back of her neck. She said, “Wow,” just to hear his breathless laugh. They untangled themselves and lay back down in a more comfortable position, pleasantly still and unspeaking for a while. Emma stretched and closed her eyes, wondering if one could ever take this sort of deep well-being for granted. Her outflung hand tipped over one of the remaining books; it landed on its side with a thump. 

“One more for the box.” She picked it up and flipped through a few pages of unfamiliar poetry before setting it back where it belonged. “I know it’s a little thing. I don’t know why it’s so important to me.” After everything they had been through, she couldn’t figure out what difference a full bookshelf might make. 

“Moving the books?” Killian gave her a quizzical look, then a thoughtful one. “It’s no trivial thing, Swan, to have a home. I know how much this means to you.” He laced his fingers together with hers. 

“When I was a kid in the system, I was used to fighting for space, for anything to be just mine.”

“I know the situation well.” 

Emma grimaced. “I’m not trying to start a pity party here or anything. Just it feels funny to be giddy about sharing closet space now.” 

“Giddy, really?” He grinned. 

“Yes, and I saw your expression when you woke up this morning, so don’t you dare.” Emma kissed him, just in case he thought she was serious. 

“Wouldn’t dream of denying it.” He drew her hand close to kiss her fingers. She stretched them playfully, trying -- not very hard -- to elude his mouth. “I did suggest we move in together, after all.” He succeeded at nipping a finger and chuckled at her mock scowl.

“I’m glad you did.” She still had the ring on its chain around her neck. Still felt surprise that after so many wandering years, this was what he wanted, with her. Still felt a flutter in her heart when she caught him with that look of wordless wonderment. 

They drowsed a while longer, then put on enough clothes to take the ship out, running ahead of a brisk wind that set the water dancing. Killian left his shirt off, to Emma’s astonished delight given his usual multiple layers--might she look forward to this sight all summer? A few more boxes got packed. Killian told her some of the ship’s history, the things she had carried to far-off lands in other worlds. Their reward for this hard work was lunch out on the deck, picnic-style, and then they lay side by side, looking at the sky. 

“I guess I always thought that I would have to choose. Between myself and… whatever. That I was going to lose something,” she said as if they had never stopped talking about it before. “It seems silly now.” 

“Hardly. If I may say so, one who values your happiness wouldn’t force such a choice on you.” 

“I know.” Emma smiled. “But I didn’t use to, and… well, that worked how it worked. I got by for years with what fit into a backpack and the trunk of the bug. This is gonna be an adventure, huh. With furniture and things.” She snuggled closer.

“Indeed, the furniture will take getting used to, but it’s hardly needed.” 

“If you get too nostalgic we can always come out here and… pillage something.” She smirked. 

“No time like the present.” 

“What, already? Are you serious?” 

“Very. And we’ve been out here for hours.” 

Emma blinked at the position of the sun. “I guess I lost track of time.” 

“Good.” Killian shifted onto his side and pulled her close against him, back to front. Emma waited to see what he had in mind, an anticipatory twinge already making itself felt within her. He brushed her hair aside and kissed the back of her neck, teased her nipple through her sweater -- she hadn’t bothered putting her bra back on. Emma wanted to move in two directions at once. She arched against his mouth, pressed her ass back against his growing hardness. She was about to say something clever about pirates and appetites, but he slid his hand down over her hip, under her pants, and down, and words were far less important than getting those pants off. She was still slick and sensitive from before, and he went slowly, alternated between gently fucking her with his fingers and stroking her clit until she took his hand and held it in place. 

“Just there. Killian….” 

“I love you, Emma.” 

“I… ah.” She shuddered hard and squeezed his hand. “I love you, too.” Emma turned around and helped with his pants, then pulled the blanket over her shoulders against the breeze and straddled him right there on the deck. This was new, being out in the open. The sun above and the warmth of him beneath her, the scratch of the wool blanket over her shoulders and under her knees, the wind and his hand tangling her hair when he drew her mouth down, tasting sun and salt and sex -- it was a little too much, and she had to consciously draw her attention inward, make the world under the blanket the whole world for a little while, the two of them the only dwellers there. 

She wasn’t going to come again so soon, but it felt good to have him inside her. He had been slow, and so was she, watching the light play across his closed eyelids and tousled hair. Emma wanted to memorize every smallest movement: the flex of his brows when she went still for a moment, the tendons of his neck in sharp relief when he arched his head back as she stepped up the pace, the trace of his tongue across his lips, inviting her to kiss her name off his mouth while he finished.

“Pillaging should definitely be a frequent event.” She pulled the blanket into a better position and stretched out next to him. “Only problem is I might never want to move again.” 

“We shall have to adjust course at some point, or sail off the edge of the world.”

“Okay with me.” Emma blinked sleepily. “S’all this fresh air and exercise. And the world’s best body pillow.” 

“Flattery indeed.” He kissed the side of her head, as the only bit he could reach without moving. 

“You do realize that while we’ve been gone, my parents have been planning a housewarming party.” 

“Never had one of those. I look forward to it.” 

She side-eyed his smile, then grinned and kissed him. “Guess we’d better finish packing, then.” 


End file.
